


Swingers

by Snegurochka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-07
Updated: 2010-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 18:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snegurochka/pseuds/Snegurochka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaise threw the best coin parties in town: all you had to do was show up with something in mind, something your spouse would never do, and drop your coin in the bowl. The magic would do the rest to find your match. One spectacular shag later, you'd worked it out of your system. <i>Theoretically</i>, that is.</p><p>6,700 words. NC-17. Equal parts Draco/Hermione & Ron/Pansy (from established Ron/Hermione & Draco/Pansy - EWE). Anal sex (the Draco/Hermione) & light D/s (the Ron/Pansy). Written for Kinky Kristmas. December 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swingers

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to marguerite_26 for the beta work.

Hermione really bloody hated Draco Malfoy.

Tight-lipped, she whirled her head to the side and threw him a warning glare over her shoulder. "Take a picture, Malfoy," she muttered, already aching and dripping with impatience.

Sprawled lazily behind her while she was on her hands and knees, he spread her open with his thumb and forefinger. Over her shoulder, she could see him appraising her like she was some kind of specimen, his fingers trailing lightly over her. He watched for her reactions to his touch as her body thickened with arousal. "Oh, don't tease." He flashed her a half grin. "I'd pin it to my office door and make sure no one got in without tossing off to you first. A picture of your cunt dripping with my interns' come... it's a brilliant idea, really."

She dropped her head down to hide her gasp. The way he said filthy things like that so nonchalantly drove straight to her core, angering and exciting her all at once. The more she berated herself for getting aroused by a man like him, the more aroused she became.

"Oh, you like that idea. Is that your secret desire? I'm going to find it eventually, you know." He pressed his fingers inside her, thick and sudden. "Just have to test a few more theories."

She tried to catch her breath. Oh, God, she couldn't tell him. She shouldn't even be here. The thought of actually telling him why the coins matched them up, what he must be willing to do to her if only she found the courage to ask... She shuddered underneath him.

"Hm. Could I fit my whole fist up here?" He twisted his fingers inside her until she pushed back against him.

"No," she gasped. "That's not it."

"We could go through my entire roster of kinks, if you really want," he said, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out, his words drifting over her back. "But we don't have all night, and beyond that, you don't want me getting bored." He sounded somewhere between petulant and angry, and she felt her blood boiling as it always did when he was anywhere near her. The fact that she'd already let him near her like _this_ just made her angrier.

"Shut up, Malfoy," she muttered, annoyed even more when he laughed.

"Shut up, yourself," he drawled, pushing another finger inside her. "And get off your high horse and tell me why you put that coin in the bowl, you dirty slut."

She drew in a gasp as she felt herself throb around his fingers, her face hot against the sheets. This was madness. She was sprawled out in a dirty hotel room with Draco Malfoy's fingers deep inside her, more aroused than she'd been in years, while her husband was one floor down, doing God knew what to Malfoy's wife.

"Granger," he murmured, his low voice dragging over the syllables as he moved over her back, his free hand scratching at her skin. "I'm not going to finger you like a teenager for the rest of the night," he growled. "Tell me how you want to get fucked, or you're not getting fucked at all."

Her body heated anew at his words. God, Ron never spoke to her like that, and if he did, she wasn't sure she wouldn't start giggling. But Malfoy, _oh_. Right then, he twisted his hand at a different angle and slid his thumb up her crease. Maybe it was on purpose, or maybe it had been an accident, but as his thumb brushed over her arsehole, Hermione groaned with such abandon that he stopped what he was doing entirely, only the tip of his thumbnail nudging at her.

"Well, well, well," he purred. "Isn't _that_ interesting."

***

Blaise and his bloody coin parties.

"Come on, Draco, let's go," cooed Pansy, her lip gloss sticky over the shell of his ear. "Don't tell me the thought of picking some other witch's coin out of the bowl and taking her home to fuck doesn't interest you even a _little_ bit."

Of course it did, but that didn't mean he should be too quick to admit that to his wife. He wasn't an idiot. "Does it interest _you_?" he asked instead, trying to look scandalised.

She backpedalled. "No. It was just an idea."

"Just an idea." He turned her in his arms, pressing her hard into the kitchen counter. "Whose dick are you after, Pansy?"

"No one's!" But she was already trembling in his arms. He couldn't decide whether to be jealous or aroused by the thought of another man flipping her over and driving deep inside her.

"No? Blaise has a new idea for this one, you know. The magic's going to pick up on your biggest unfulfilled sexual desire and match you up with someone who'll do it."

"Draco..."

"Do I not give you everything you want?"

"Of course." She went still in his arms, gazing down at the kitchen counter. "It was just a thought."

He squeezed her arse, his mouth on the back of her neck. "We can go," he breathed, "but only if you admit how much you want to."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her mouth turned down. "Never mind," she muttered. "Only _everyone's_ going. Daphne says everyone's calling us prudes for skipping the last few."

Like Slytherin House didn't see enough bed swapping when they were all at school. Merlin. He needed new friends. "Between us, we've already shagged half of Slytherin." He lifted off her, sighing. "It was getting boring."

A tiny smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. She turned to lean against the counter, an impish look on her face.

"What?"

"Didn't Blaise tell you? He's got some fresh blood this time. Rumour has it we might even get a war hero or two to make an appearance." Disdain coloured the words, and Draco grinned at her.

"Indeed?"

"Oh yeah." She slithered her arms around his neck. "And I know exactly which prissy bitch you want bending over for your cock."

Images spun through his mind all of a sudden, and he bit down on a moan. "All right, you slag," he muttered, smacking her lightly on the arse. "Go get dressed. You've got someone else's husband to fuck tonight."

***

"So, Weasley. What have I got that you want?" Pansy was already on the bed, propped against the headboard in only her favourite black corset and lacy panties, her knees bent and her legs spread. She traced her fingers down the insides of her thighs as he stood at the foot of the bed, watching her.

"I can't believe _you're_ the one I got," he was moaning, running his hand over his face when he could stand to take his eyes off her cleavage.

"Count yourself lucky," she snapped. "Unless you'd rather just go back home, turn off the lights, and try to convince that frigid wife of yours to lie still for three minutes."

He looked shell-shocked for a moment. "Shut up, Parkinson," he muttered.

She ignored him, inching her fingers closer to her knickers and teasing at the seam of the flimsy fabric. "Come on, Weasley. Get your dick over here." She eyed him. "Unless it's _my_ dick you want. Ooh, is it? That could be arranged. Draco _hates_ when I do that."

Weasley flushed bright red. It was adorable, really. "I– what? God, no. Bloody hell, woman, what are you on about? Just lie there with your legs open and shut the fuck up for five bloody seconds, would you?"

The words weren't even that harsh, but somehow they shot straight to Pansy's core. Draco spoke to her like that all the damn time, and she'd learned to simply roll her eyes. But a big-hearted oaf like Weasley saying things like that... she shivered. "Yes, sir," she whispered, making a show of mashing her lips together. "I won't say anything else unless you tell me to."

His eyes were wide as saucers, bless him. "I– well, good. Shut up," he repeated.

A little smile crept up Pansy's face.

When she didn't speak again, Weasley moved around the side of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt and seeming to gain confidence the longer she was silent. "That's it, Parkinson. I don't need to hear your voice. Just need that pretty cunt on display for me."

 _Merlin_. That hadn't taken long. Two sentences into dirty talk, and Weasley was already a pro. She felt a rush of blood through her body, and her fingers itched to move over her knickers. Emboldened, she hooked her index finger into the lace and pulled it aside, her gaze locked on Weasley. "Like this, sir?" she purred.

His mouth fell open, and he stood blinking at her like an idiot for a bit too long.

Exasperated, she slid her finger in slowly, watching Weasley's face as her finger disappeared inside her body. Putting on a show, she arched her back and moaned loudly. "Tell me what to do next, sir."

"Christ, Parkinson." He ran his hand over his face, and her smile vanished.

"Give me another fucking order," she hissed, pulling her finger free. "That's what you really want, isn't it?"

He flushed.

"Oh, I bet you don't get a word in edgewise with your bitch of a wife. Can you imagine ever standing over the bed, telling her to spread her legs and show you her cunt?"

"Shut the fuck up," he mumbled, but his eyes were glued to her.

"She'd hex your balls off, wouldn't she?"

"I thought I told you to shut _up_."

The words sizzled down her spine. "Ooh, _yes_. That's it, love." Maybe he wouldn't badmouth his wife to her, but his reaction told her everything she needed to know. She'd be willing to bet that he'd had all this kinky sexual energy pent up for _years_ , living with that cold fish of a woman. "How dare I insult her," she purred. "Come on. Tell me off."

She dropped her voice and pushed herself up on her knees, crawling towards him and reaching for his trousers.

"You won't hurt me, Weasley. This is the night where you get what you want, get to do to me everything your wife won't let you do to her." She unzipped him and pulled his cock out, her mouth watering at how hard he already was. Glancing up at him with big eyes, she licked the tip of her tongue up his shaft, leaning back and smiling with satisfaction when his legs nearly buckled. "So, what will it be?"

"Parkinson, look, I don't think–"

"Tell me what to do, Weasley."

"No, look, you don't have to–"

" _Tell_ me, sir," she hissed.

He paused at that, breathing hard through his mouth and making a quiet but strangled noise. "Suck it," he gasped.

She looked up at him innocently. "What's that? I couldn't hear you."

With a growl, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pushed her towards his cock. "I said, _suck it_ ," he snapped.

Pansy moaned around him, wetness flooding between her legs. Draco did this to her all the damn time, but it was never a game with him; he actually fucking meant it, the sadist. He really thought that was all she was good for, lying still and taking his cock. Weasley, though... _Merlin_. Seeing a man who wasn't an attention whore like Draco, who wasn't naturally inclined to take the lead, lose control like this was something she wasn't sure she'd ever get enough of.

***

"Oh, Ron, _really_?"

There she went again, in that tone of voice. Ron squared his shoulders and tried to figure out how best to make his case. He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I mean, it's pretty harmless, right? Harry and Ginny went once; they said it was fun."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and did that thing where she tilted her head to the side. " _Fun_." Her tone was disbelieving, as usual. "You want me to have sex with some other man for _fun_."

Well, that was only half of it, of course. What he really wanted was to have sex with another woman, but he wasn't stupid enough to put it _that_ way. Harry had told him that the way he'd made the case to Ginny (which, ew, Ron didn't really need the details there, but he'd wanted to go himself enough to try to listen) was to make it sound like _her_ fantasy coming true, a safe and harmless way to let off some steam. There were spells to ensure secrecy, after all, and it wasn't like they really needed to worry about their marriage suffering from it. Did they? "No, but, I mean..." He approached her cautiously and wrapped his arms around her, gaining hope when she didn't push him away. "Isn't there something you'd like to try?"

A hot flush seared up her face, so sudden Ron nearly jumped back. Christ. So, there _was_. He tried to push down his burning question, though, and focus on the thing _he_ wanted to try, the thing he knew she'd never go for. He wrapped his arms around her even tighter, whispering in her ear.

"Anything you want, Hermione. For one night, you can have it. Just once. I won't be jealous, I promise. I just want you to be happy."

Her heart was hammering against his chest; he could feel it. Well, damn. She really did want something. The thought that he might actually get to do it, get to go to Zabini's stupid posh house and watch his wife and a dozen other women flip their magicked coins into a bowl, get to pick the one most likely to be open to his fantasies... bloody hell. He never thought it would actually work.

"What do you say?" he whispered cautiously.

She pulled back to look at him. "Are you sure you won't get jealous?"

Oh. Well, that wasn't quite the question he'd expected. "Um, are _you_?"

She looked startled, like she hadn't thought of it that way.

"Because, I mean, I'd have to– I'd also be picking a–" He cleared his throat, feeling his face heat.

"Oh. Right. I– no." She blinked up at him, considering. "I don't think I'd be jealous."

He pulled her in tightly again, kissing the top of her head and grinning like a kid in a candy shop. "Thanks, Hermione. It'll be fun. You'll see."

***

"Oh, I get it now," Malfoy was saying, his thumb pressing more insistently at Hermione's hole. "Well, wouldn't you know it? Blaise's damn magic works after all." He crawled up her back, pushing her down to the bed in the process and nearly covering her entirely, his chest hot against her back. Hermione struggled to breathe, her body whirling with sensation. He moved his lips over her shoulder blades and up the back of her neck, moving her hair out of the way before whispering hotly in her ear, "You want my prick up your arse, Granger?"

She let out a whimper, turning her face to the side and closing her eyes.

"Don't tell me: that horribly vanilla husband of yours won't even consider it." He laughed, deep and slow. "No, wait. I bet you've never even asked him. Just so _embarrassing_ , isn't it?"

"Shut up, Malfoy. Don't talk about him."

"You should be nice to me, Granger," he purred, "because as it happens, you're in luck." He lifted himself off her and rose to his knees behind her, his hands smoothing over her hips and arse. "I rather enjoy that particular act myself. My wife," he added, "finds it... distasteful, shall we say."

Hermione should _not_ have been aroused even more by that image; she knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help it. The thought of Malfoy fantasising about that, maybe even trying it with that wife of his, nudging at her until she pushed him away... it made her even wetter. "Well," she muttered, summoning her courage; if she wanted this, she might as well take the chance before she never got another, "your wife's a damn fool."

He was quiet for a moment and then bit out a laugh. "Why, Granger, is this you actually asking for what you want at last?"

She clenched her jaw. "Yes."

"Oh, this is a joyful day, indeed," he drawled. "But let me make one thing clear." She felt his prick outside her entrance, his fingers brushing through her wetness where he was holding himself in position. "Don't you ever speak a word against my wife."

She grimaced, holding her tongue. Oh, the things she could say to _that_. But he was already beginning to push inside her, and _oh_ , dammit, it wasn't worth arguing with him if it would make him stop.

The walls of her cunt stretched to accommodate him, but he paused only a little way in. "Imagine, Granger," he whispered, "how it'll feel when it's that perfect little hole stretching around me, not _this_."

She imagined it. Oh, God, she could imagine every bit of it. She didn't know why she wanted this so much, but she did, and Malfoy was right, damn him: she'd never had the courage to ask Ron to do this to her. They made love quickly and quietly, and it was nice, but he wasn't exactly the kinkiest man alive. He was safe and warm. He'd never throw her face first onto the bed and sink his fingers or cock inside her with barely a hello, the way Malfoy had.

Malfoy stopped talking for once and began to fuck her in earnest, a few quick, deep thrusts that had her body singing. She had been nearly prone on the bed, but she rose up now, her palms flat on the sheets and her elbows locked, and she arched back into his thrusts. He was too rough, but her body was responding in surprising ways, pressing back to meet him. She was almost dizzy from imagining how he was going to feel when he fucked her like this in her arse.

"Are you thinking about it?" he murmured, pulling her back onto his lap.

Oh, God, no, this was too intimate. On her hands and knees when she didn't have to look at him was one thing, but this... He wrapped his arms around her, one sliding down her stomach and through her trimmed curls to rub lightly over her clit, the other flicking at her nipples. "Yes," she gasped.

He kissed up her neck, surprisingly gentle, and pulled her earlobe between his teeth. "Have you done it before?"

"I– just." She swallowed. "Just myself. But not with anything..."

His deep groan rumbled through her back, and he bit down on her shoulder. "Now that's an image to treasure." His cock slowed inside her, and she tried to catch her breath. "Are you ready?" he murmured.

"Malfoy..." This new Malfoy, this quiet authority instead of rough insults, it was burning right through her. She never thought he would be like this, rough and gentle at the same time. "Yes," she whispered.

He pushed her forward, his fingers light against her back, until she was leaning on her elbows. He stayed inside her as he whispered the words to conjure lubricant over his fingers. His thumbs pulled her cheeks apart, and then his slick fingers were at her hole, touching her ever so lightly.

She trembled, sucking in a deep breath, and he laughed.

"Don't get too excited yet," he murmured. "This is just the beginning."

Malfoy opened her slowly, pressing past her resistance and coaxing her when her body instinctively tried to fight him. His prick finally slipped out of her, and all her attention focused on her arse instead. He swept his fingers down to gather her wetness, returning to push two inside. She could barely process the sensation of it, already so much more than she'd ever managed with her own fingers. It was so invasive and intimate, and she felt her face grow hot at the very thought of _Malfoy_ , someone she instinctively hated and certainly barely trusted, having access to her body like this.

"That's it, gorgeous," he breathed, and if the endearment surprised her, the rough note of desire in his voice nearly unhinged her.

"Malfoy," she muttered, turning to look at him over her shoulder. He slowed his rotation of his fingers, glancing up at her as his chest rose and fell rapidly. She waited until his eyes met hers. "Do it."

His lip curved. "Say it," he shot back.

" _Do_ it."

"Say it, Granger. Tell me exactly what you want me to do." Even as he spoke, he pulled his fingers free. Hermione's body shuddered against him, and he moved forward on his knees, one hand around his stiff prick.

She clenched her jaw. "Take that prick of yours... "

He pressed the head against her hole. "Yes..." he hissed.

"... and fuck my arse with it." Her face flamed hot, but she was too far beyond caring what she looked like, what he thought of her. So was he, from the last look of him she caught before she turned around again, her head hanging between her shoulders.

God, he was big. He'd felt thick and hard in her cunt before, and now, against the resistance of her arsehole, he felt enormous, far too big to fit. She shivered at the sensation, though, as all her fantasies began to come true. The head of his cock pressed in, and the flare of pain she felt lessened in moments. He barely gave her time to adjust, but he did move slowly and steadily, filling her inch by inch until she wasn't sure she could take it.

With a choked gasp, she crushed a corner of the pillowcase in her fist and let a dark growl escape her throat.

"Granger," he gasped, her name a moan on his lips. "All right?"

The pillowcase twisted even harder in her grip at the surge of emotion she felt at the words. The Draco Malfoy she knew wouldn't care about that; he'd just throw her down and shove inside. That was what she'd expected. His concern made her toes curl. "Yeah," she huffed, a short burst of air. "God." It was so intense she could barely speak. "Do it."

With a low groan, he pulled back a bit and thrust in further, her body catching fire. He set up a shallow rhythm, not as hard as he'd fucked her before, but twice as intense. She could feel him everywhere. His fingers moved around to slide over her folds and her clit, dipping up inside her and then moving back out in a steady circle, and Hermione nearly lost her mind.

"Harder," she gasped, because she was already a mess; she wanted to feel it _everywhere_. All of him.

"God," he groaned, his rhythm picking up as he slid in and out of her. Her body had adjusted better, and the burn had been replaced by sparks of a pleasure she'd never known before. " _Hermione_ ," he muttered, the name foreign on his lips, and she could barely even process how far gone he must have been to use her name like that. The very thought that she had driven him to it, that he must be out of his mind with arousal, made her body flare even more. "Oh. Oh, fuck." He sped up, hammering at her so hard she began to feel deliciously _used_ , her arse squeezing around his cock as he got closer to orgasm.

He pulled his hand away from her clit and grabbed her hips hard when he came. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, nothing like a man coming inside her cunt. Sensation splashed up her spine as he filled her, his cock pulsing in steady bursts and come already beginning to run out and down into her folds.

With a sob, she fell to one elbow as her other hand shot to her clit, rubbing furiously. He growled and tried to bat her hand away, but she held firm; she'd fucking murder him if he threw her rhythm off _now_. He only helped her, though, his bigger hand sliding through her soaked folds with hers until she came with a startled cry, clamping down around his fingers and squeezing his cock. The waves of her release blindsided her, and she was grateful for his arms around her, holding her steady. He fell over her back, breathing hard. She could feel him grinning, even as he bit lightly at her shoulder blades.

"Don't bloody say anything," she grumbled, still trying to catch her breath.

"Wouldn't, _ah_ , dream of it." He withdrew with the spasms of her body, the sensation of him pulling free nearly sending her over the edge again. Her entire body shuddered, and she lay down on her side, one hand over her face. When she chanced a peek at him through her fingers, he was kneeling on the bed, his softened prick nestled against his thigh and his face flushed with exertion. He looked up and caught her gaze before she could hide, and a devilish smile tugged at his mouth.

" _Don't_ ," she warned him again, rolling onto her back and wondering what on earth she was supposed to do now.

He gave a delighted laugh, slapping her hip lightly as he climbed off the bed. "I didn't say anything!"

"You were going make some dreadful comment about all of this, and so you can just shut up right now, because I–"

" _Granger_." He fastened his trousers and finished shrugging his shirt over his shoulders. Approaching the bed, he leaned down and brushed a stray curl off her forehead. "I've no dreadful comments to make. In case it wasn't clear, I rather enjoyed that. Dreadful comments would only hinder the probability that I might get to do it again sometime, don't you think?"

Her eyes widened, and a new thrill shot through her body. She had to bite back a moan at the thought, not least because her arse still felt raw, used, and stained with his come. She closed her eyes to collect herself, clearing her throat when she was ready. "Perhaps." She regarded him for a moment before feeling her face heat again. She drew the blankets up over herself to hide her nakedness and his appraising gaze.

He came closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Sore?"

 _Oh_. "A little."

"That was nothing, Granger. Next coin party, I'm going to spread you open and fuck your pretty arse so hard, you won't sit down for a week." He bit at her earlobe before standing again and calmly buttoning his shirt.

He was almost at the door when she managed to control herself again and call out to him. "Malfoy."

He turned.

"If I find any pictures of me on your office door, I'm hexing your balls off. Just so you know."

He grinned, giving her a mock bow. "I'd expect nothing less, Granger."

With a satisfied smile, she got dressed and headed home, looking forward to a long bath and a cup of tea.

***

Nearly choking on Weasley's thick cock while he twisted her nipples fiercely was not something Pansy would have thought was missing from her life, but _Merlin_ , she'd never felt alive like this. She pressed her tongue against him and let him thrust through her lips as hard as he wanted, moaning at the grip in her hair and wondering if he'd still fuck her after he'd come down her throat.

"Enough," he said at last, pushing her away and answering that question for her. "Get on the bed."

His tone was already getting her off, and _how_ , but there was something else, too. Every time she glanced up at him, she saw the spark of reverence in his eyes, the way he liked playing the game but even more than that, liked having someone to play it with him, someone who wouldn't judge him. "How do you want me, sir?" she murmured, infusing her tone with as much doll-meets-hooker as she could. From the way his dick was swelling even further, it was working.

"On your back," he growled. "And get that outfit off. I want to see everything you've got under all that fallen-angel lace of yours." He didn't take his eyes off her.

She bit her lip, scooting back on the bed, and pulling at the lacing of the corset. She could use her wand, but where was the fun in that? It slowly loosened, finally falling open as her breasts spilled out. She threw it over the side of the bed and propped herself up against the headboard, trying to give her breasts their best angle. Merlin, the way he was _looking_ at her. Her knickers were soaked through, and she feared she might come the second he touched her. Draco never looked at her like this. Draco only looked at her like an object to fuck; Weasley had something almost tender in his expression.

He quickly kicked his trousers and pants off, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between her legs. He reached out to touch her breasts, tentative at first, and she held her breath, enjoying the soft brush of his fingers. When he dragged his thumb over one of her nipples, she wasn't even exaggerating her performance anymore when she arched her back and moaned. That seemed to jolt him back to the game, and he cleared his throat. "Like that?"

"Yes, sir." She gave him her best sultry smile, trying to look innocent as well as whorish. He seemed to like that combination.

"Can't have you liking it too much, can I?"

"No, sir," she promised. "I won't like it very much. You can fuck me as hard as you want, and I'll just be quiet, I promise."

He groaned, his head falling forward, and had to pause to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Christ, Parkinson," he muttered. "Do you even know what you're saying?"

She sat up, brushing his cheek with hers and clamping her fingers tight around his jaw. "It's a _game_ , you idiot," she bit out. "Quit fucking ruining it and order me to spread my legs." She dropped back down to the bed, running her fingers in mock shyness over her stomach and up to her breasts.

His shocked look melted quickly into a grin, before he schooled his features again into those of someone very much in charge. "Spread your legs, then, if you're so damn eager," he barked. When she did, he hooked his fingers around her thighs and pushed them even wider, opening her obscenely. "Now, what should I do with these knickers...?" One thick finger dragged down over her crotch, and Pansy nearly arched off the bed with sensation.

" _Oh_. Take them off, sir," she panted. "Take them off and fuck me with your giant cock."

"You talk like that to all the blokes?"

"Only a few, sir." She considered which of her potential next lines might arouse him the most. "But I've been saving myself for you. I was hoping you'd pick me tonight, sir, that I'd get to be the one to take your cock."

He groaned, his fingers nudging her knickers aside. "Damn right you will," he muttered. Merlin, she was already so wet. He didn't bother trying to tease her, not really. The lace of her pants snapped around his hand as he pushed inside her, at least two fingers driving in deep.

She exhaled, spreading her legs further and tilting her hips towards him.

"And I'm not taking them off," he muttered, watching with fascination as his fingers disappeared inside her. "Serves you right, coming here in an outfit like that. Maybe they'll get ripped, or..." He flushed, and Pansy felt a surge of affection for him.

"Or what, sir?" she prompted. "Don't get them dirty. Oh, please. They're my very favourite pair."

He pulled his fingers free with a groan and immediately spread her wetness over his cock, his fist tight around himself as he gave it a few hurried tugs. "Well," he said at last, "maybe you should've thought of that before you wore them tonight, yeah? Because they're getting dirty." He hooked his fingers around the edge and pulled them all the way to the side, hard. "They're definitely going to get dirty."

Pansy's moan was genuine. This was far more fun than she'd thought it would be. Weasley was a natural when he put his mind to it.

He moved forward, grasping his cock with his free hand and guiding it to her entrance. He pushed the head through her wetness, sliding back and forth until she gasped, throwing her head back. "You want to come like this, just from my cock," he growled, "or do you want to get fucked? One or the other, Parkinson."

Oh, Merlin. "I– I can't decide, sir," she whispered. "You can do anything you want to me. Maybe I don't deserve to come," she added, hoping that taking the chance now would pay off later, when he was so aroused and fucking her so hard she'd come just from breathing. "Maybe I only deserve to lie here and get fucked."

His cock pushed into her without warning at that, as if by accident as he jolted through her folds at her words. He groaned, dropping his head between his shoulders. "Yeah," he managed. "That's what you deserve." He kept going, pushing that fat cock of his as far inside her as he could, and _oh_ , he felt even better than she could have imagined. She was positively drenched from the dirty talk, and her cunt had been starting to ache from emptiness. The stretch of Weasley's cock sent her body spinning.

He thrust the rest of the way in and held himself still, gazing down at her. His face was flushed and his hair had dampened at his temples, making it curl a little in the heated room. She moaned and cupped her breasts, brushing her thumbs over her nipples and sending sparks down to her core.

"Stop that," he grumbled, grabbing her hands and pulling them away. "I get to decide when you can touch yourself." With that, he held each of her wrists pinned under his hands on either side of her head, using the leverage to haul himself into her at every thrust. He pulled out slowly and then thrust hard, over and over again until the headboard began to thump against the wall.

" _Oh_. Weasley," she muttered, falling out of the roleplay for a moment, "you fuck like a bloody champion, you know that?"

"I didn't say you could talk," he barked, but she caught the pleased smile at the corners of his mouth and winked at him. He released her wrists and sat back a bit, moving his hands to the insides of her thighs and spreading her wider. He watched intently as his cock pierced her, taking in the soaked black material of her knickers where they hugged one side of his shaft, and the way his purple prick glistened every time it pulled out of her before pressing back in hard. He moved his palms to cup her knees as he pushed her legs higher, nearly folding her in half. "All right, come here," he said roughly. "Get yourself off."

Oh, hell yes. Her fingers shot down to her clit as fast as she could, pressing in tight and moving in frantic circles. He stilled inside her, his gaze riveted to the display before him. This was _shameless_ of her, she knew, showing off for Weasley like she really was the king's own whore, but he wouldn't stop _watching_ , like it was the most incredible show he'd ever seen, so she had to make sure it bloody was.

The gush began deep inside, spiralling out as she circled her fingers in a steady motion. "Oh," she breathed, her lips parting. " _Oh_ , fuck." She clenched her stomach and tilted her hips up, waves of her release crashing through her. Weasley groaned as her walls clamped down around him, and as she came back down to earth, he began to thrust into her again, his pace quickening.

"Jesus, Parkinson," he muttered, his face flushed and his eyes growing wild.

"Fill me up," she murmured, her chest heaving as he pinned her down with his much heavier frame. "Please, sir. Come inside me. However you want. I'll just lie here and take it."

The groan that tore from his throat sent a renewed burst of sensation down her spine. "Thought I said," he panted, "that you were gonna get dirty." He locked his gaze on her, and she gave him a coy smile. He fucked in hard, grinding up against her and slamming her into the mattress. All of a sudden, his face pinched and he pulled out of her, grasping his wet prick in one big fist. "Fucking take it," he grunted. He spurted over her stomach and chest, come sliding down her breasts and tickling one of her nipples with its wet warmth. Merlin, this was rough and dirty and exactly what she'd wanted. His cock dripped over her bellybutton as he began to slow, his chest heaving and his expression one of both pleasure and awe.

Catching his eye, she slid her fingers down into the mess, lightly twirling his come in patterns over her stomach. His prick gave one more feeble pulse in his hand, before he crashed down to the bed, sprawling out beside her.

"Bloody hell, woman," he muttered with a startled laugh. "What _was_ that?" One arm flopped over his forehead, and a stupid grin lodged on his face.

"That was sex, Weasley, the way it's meant to be done." She sat up and grabbed her wand, cleaning herself up.

"Oh, sorry." He glanced over, still grinning. "Can't move."

She rolled her eyes. Men.

"So, uh, you're not going to tell Hermione I'm a big pervert or anything, are you?" His face clouded.

She Summoned a dressing gown from the closet and pulled it around her shoulders. "Hardly, Weasley."

"Okay. Because, I mean, I won't tell Malfoy you're a–"

She raised a brow.

"I mean, that you wear lacy underwear to swing parties and then talk like that to the bloke you–"

"Weasley."

"Uh, yeah?"

"Do shut the fuck up."

He looked stunned for a moment, but then that goofy grin returned. He nudged Pansy's elbow, and dammit, despite herself, his post-sex euphoria was infectious.

She gave him a small smile and nudged him back, and then leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the end of his nose. Shaking her head, she rose and began rummaging for her skirt.

"Hey, Parkinson?"

She glanced over to find him yawning and curling up on his side, naked as the day he was born and perfectly content, it seemed, to fall asleep like that.

"You're all right, you know that?" His eyes were already closed, and she snorted a laugh.

"Thanks, Weasley. My life is complete."

***

"So. How was it?"

"What? Oh. Fine. Nothing earth-shattering. You?"

"Right, yeah. Same. Certainly not anything we need to do again."

"Oh no, definitely not. Sort of vulgar, really."

"Amazing so many of our friends actually like things like that."

"Definitely not my thing."

"So, uh, cup of tea?"

"Sure."

"So, ah, rumour has it Blaise is doing it again next month."

"That so? Pass the sugar."

"Here. And yeah. Just–"

"Thank you. This is delicious. Is it new?"

"From that gift basket my mother sent. I'll tell her you like it."

"Please do. So, next month...?"

"Yeah."

"Ah. Well, I suppose it would be rude not to go."

"Right. That's what I was thinking. I mean, just to maybe have a drink, pay our respects to the host..."

"Definitely rude not to."

"Great. I'll put it on the calendar."

-fin-


End file.
